'Szelhamos' (
sarcastass) wrote in
starhuevalley2018-09-09 02:48 pm
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Entry tags:
FURST | Action at the bus stop!
Who: Szelhamos and you!
What: A very cranky, flamboyantbird demon rolls up into town, definitely NOT LOOKING FOR ANYONE.
When: The weekend, as late in the afternoon as he can manage.
Where: Bus stop, and then grumping around town.
Warnings: None unless over the top Mean Girls level histrionics are troubling.
[He'd never had to take public transportation before in his life. Why would he? He could teleport. He could buy a car. He could waft into town on a breeze.
He could pay someone an embarrassingly large amount of money to ride in a plane with a hot tub and a five star all you can eat sushi buffet. He wasn't a bus person. But apparently, there wasn't any teleporting in here, or breeze riding or car driving or sushi buffet plane flying in here. That alone was offensive, and he hadn't even gotten to the part where he was offended that he had to ride on a bus.
Stepping out of said bus into podunk middle of nowhere was offense number three, Szel still sulking over numbers one and two, and at this point he was furiously scrolling through his phone looking for a certain number in a desperate effort to vent some steam.
He definitely doesn't look like he fits here, a tall, well dressed young man in an Italian suit and calf skin shoes, gold tipped cane and blacked out glasses. Not... not really farmer material. Maybe he's here on vacation.
A bit jarringly, there upon his shoulder, peering into the phone with far more intelligent intensity than most would expect, was a slinky, golden eyed black cat, unblinking as Szel grumbled and scrolled.]
If he changed his number, I'm snapping his neck.
[Now this would sound like he was talking to himself, where it not for the cat.... y'know, answering him, tone demure and lisping.]
If you snap his neck, do we get to go back?
No.
What: A very cranky, flamboyant
When: The weekend, as late in the afternoon as he can manage.
Where: Bus stop, and then grumping around town.
Warnings: None unless over the top Mean Girls level histrionics are troubling.
[He'd never had to take public transportation before in his life. Why would he? He could teleport. He could buy a car. He could waft into town on a breeze.
He could pay someone an embarrassingly large amount of money to ride in a plane with a hot tub and a five star all you can eat sushi buffet. He wasn't a bus person. But apparently, there wasn't any teleporting in here, or breeze riding or car driving or sushi buffet plane flying in here. That alone was offensive, and he hadn't even gotten to the part where he was offended that he had to ride on a bus.
Stepping out of said bus into podunk middle of nowhere was offense number three, Szel still sulking over numbers one and two, and at this point he was furiously scrolling through his phone looking for a certain number in a desperate effort to vent some steam.
He definitely doesn't look like he fits here, a tall, well dressed young man in an Italian suit and calf skin shoes, gold tipped cane and blacked out glasses. Not... not really farmer material. Maybe he's here on vacation.
A bit jarringly, there upon his shoulder, peering into the phone with far more intelligent intensity than most would expect, was a slinky, golden eyed black cat, unblinking as Szel grumbled and scrolled.]
If he changed his number, I'm snapping his neck.
[Now this would sound like he was talking to himself, where it not for the cat.... y'know, answering him, tone demure and lisping.]
If you snap his neck, do we get to go back?
No.
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HE CAME ALL THIS WAY. FOR YOU.
BE GRATEFUL.
"I pick up my entire life and follow you right into the gates of rural farm hell and this is how you repay me?"
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"...You're just going to have to wait and find out, now aren't you?"
Look, Szel, would you like him so much if he was boring?
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"Anything in there that I don't like is getting teleported directly into your house."
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Yeah he knows who here has the limitation and it's not Szel. At least he can pop himself in and out of reality again! That's fucking huge, now that he has someone -- someones? -- to live for.
"I really am glad that you came here. I was pretty sure you would, but, you know. Odds don't always play out as one wants."
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Well, Tannusen's exact kind of fairy from Tannusen's own world, at least. No fae from Szel's home worked on the same kind of logic.
"I wasn't going to. But I can only tolerate a certain level of complete and total social ineptitude."
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"I'll generate some on my own, especially when I do wacky shit like fill someone's house with penis-shaped confetti. And I can probably set up at least a couple Dreamers..."
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Because if anyone could scowl the sun itself back behind the hills, it was that asshole.
".... Is my house full of penis confetti, Tannusen?"
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His tone is teasing, of course, and the grin comes back at that last question, "Now, now, that would be telling!"
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"What the HELL did you put in my house, goddamnit?!"
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"I'm not actually completely sure whether it would work with you or not," he considers for a second, then continues, "your species is so... clockwork, corrupted or not. But, it works with humans? So I guess it's a matter of how high your inherent banality is... and having smashed souls with you quite a number of times, I don't think that it just flat-out wouldn't work. You're quite a bit less banal than your brethren."
Oh right he hasn't said what it is. Don't mind him, he's literally written books on the subject of his own kind and how they work.
"It's musing, basically. Shoot you up with Glamour in a slightly different way than the usual, you have a massive creativity spike, and I peel off the excess Glamour you generate from it."
Without being able to paint anymore, though... was Szel a writer?
"Some more Unseelie types than I am do it in such a way that it harms the Dreamer, but I don't. Seems counter-productive."
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Ah. There we go. A glamour generator.
"If you're that concerned about me being too banal for this, you have a perfectly human, perfectly creative significant other no doubt getting into a fist fight with a bear somewhere as we speak." Offended at the idea that he might not be able to help? No never.
Never ever.
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Yeah, Cassian was kind of a given, wasn't he? It was unlikely the grumpy priest would decline when Tannu eventually brought it up. Which--
"I haven't brought it up to him yet. You're the first."
FEEL SPECIAL, YOU VAIN FUCKER.
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The sound of feathers rustling indicated what Szel thought of this. Sure they weren't visible, but they existed somewhere, in some capacity. The look of surprise was here and gone again.
"Neither of you probably even thought about your glamour supply." That's right, he does all the heavy thinking around here. Him. The planner. Absolutely the best at forward thinking.
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Validation, validation, Tannusen knew Szel always needed validation.
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Tannusen didn't humor people, or at least, didn't humor people he didn't fucking like.
"I think, as a show of gratitude, if this is in fact the case, that you should tell me if you did anything to my house."
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He's a cat, he has to bat at the flailing thing, even if it's all verbal.
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WHAT DID YOU DO, YOU DICK.
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This is the prank, you shitty parrot.
"Why do you keep asking? You know better than to believe me."
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Something that he is also fully aware of but it's too late now. This is the hill he chose and he's gonna die all over it.
"Why are you the way that you are?!"
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Still laughing a bit, Tannu started walking again.
"Because I'm a faerie! Keep up, Szel! You wouldn't like me so much if I was boring, would you?"
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"I mean it, if there is anything I hate in there, it's going right into your house, probably into your fiance's hair."
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"Don't you have to know where my house is, first?"
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